


Careful

by Candipeach26



Series: In The Mood [4]
Category: Bodyguard (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-05-18 22:52:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19344313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Candipeach26/pseuds/Candipeach26
Summary: Months after their sudden breakup, Julia and David encounter each other at an event held in Buckingham Palace.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stekliashkina_ua](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stekliashkina_ua/gifts).



> Ok, so this is a gift for Stekliashkina, who sent me a prompt a few weeks back for a story set at Buckingham Palace. Thanks, girl! Love your support! :)
> 
> I've been so *sugary* lately with these two in my smutty stories, which isn't my usual style (lol), so I needed to go a bit grittier this time and introduce a bit of trouble in paradise. It'll have two parts. Enjoy!
> 
> -Candi

* * *

Six months.

He’d avoided her.  Hadn’t called, texted, or otherwise established any sort of contact with her.

And she followed suit.

After all, she hadn’t *really* done anything wrong to begin with. 

There would be no apologies offered on her part, no simpering, no begging him to come back, no pleading for reconciliation.

He was a big boy.  And if he couldn’t handle her status, couldn’t handle the terms that came with her position and power, couldn’t handle the occasional slip-up and the usual media barrage that now accompanied her every waking moment, thought, word, and deed, then it was for the best that their relationship ended for good.

It’s not even like she really…missed him, even.

Not at all.

She was a big girl.  She knew, probably better than anyone else, how to cut her losses and move on.

And even though a man the likes of David Budd hardly came across one’s eye on a regular basis, he wasn’t the ONLY man in the world that could do it for her.

Might be hard to find, obviously.  Especially given her unique circumstances.

But certainly not impossible.

* * *

 

The thing was, Julia _had_ been more than a little full of herself that fateful afternoon.

She’d caught a rare break late that December, what with Parliament having been dismissed for the holidays and a dearth of engagements on her schedule that weekend.  Elizabeth, her dearest childhood friend and single mother to three children Julia was a proud 'auntie' to, had come down to London to spend time with her briefly before continuing south on holiday.

David had just been leaving as Elizabeth arrived that morning, Julia making a brief, pleasant introduction between the two.  He’d barely closed the door behind him before Elizabeth threw Julia a sly, impressed look.

“Wow.  Just…wow,” she teased, laughing as Julia blushed a little while shaking her head.  “Please tell me he has brothers.  Lots of them.  Where the bloody hell does one find a man like that?”

“It’s a very long story,” Julia returned with a grin, promising to spool out the story of her relationship with David over brunch.  They’d climbed into her heavily-fortified motorcade and headed out to the fanciest place in town, downing mimosas at an alarming clip, their chatter animated and becoming increasingly raucous as the morning went on.

“So he was your bodyguard.”

“My protection officer.  Yes.”

“And how did he become… _more_ than that?”

“It happened.  It just…we couldn’t…”

“You’re blushing again.”

“Shut it!  He’s just…”

“Wonderful, and kind, and brave, and handsome, and he knows how to use his hands, and he’s probably very well-hung, and…”

Julia nearly spit out her drink, gaping at Liz incredulously.  “We’re not going there!”

“C’mon, we’re adults,” Liz replied with a smirk, lowering her voice suggestively.  “He’s gotta be better in that department than Roger was.  Not that that’s a tall order.  So is he?”

“You’re horrible.”

“He is.  He looks like he is.  Looks very well-equipped, very capable…”

“Oh God, Liz, stop it!”

“I come all the way down here to get the dirt, and you share nothing!?”

Julia, lightheaded from the wine and laughter, her inhibitions loosened and her tongue gone rogue, decided to throw her dearest friend a bone for once.  She lowered her voice too, leaning in close.

“I will only say this.  The woman who coined the term ‘size doesn’t matter’ has _never_ slept with the likes of David Budd before.”

Liz’s eyes widened as her jaw dropped.  “I knew it.  You’re getting it good, aren’t you?”

Julia laughed at the expression on her face.  “You have no idea, Liz.”

“Bloody hell, then...cheers to good dick,” Liz murmured appreciatively, sending Julia into another wild teal of laughter as they raised their glasses in toast.

* * *

Julia had hardly regained sobriety later that evening before her phone began to buzz insistently on her nightstand, her assistants all on high alert, her political publicist doing damage control as an onslaught of tawdry headlines began to flood social media.

And they were all about David.

Or, more specifically, a particularly private part of him.

“This just in—PM Montague endorsing size queendom!” one headline screamed, and the others followed suit, pictures of her with David being disseminated and dissected, particularly a paparazzi pic of him in loose shorts as they’d prepared for a run one morning.  He was admittedly… _prominent_ in the photo, the commentary evidently ranging from swooning over his obvious attributes to speculation about their love life to vulgar pleas from both men AND women for him to wear much, much less next time.

Naturally David had arrived at her door hours later, his face permanently red from embarrassment, absolutely furious with her.

“Julia, what the fuck?!?”

“Listen, I—”

“It isn’t enough that I get followed everywhere already.  Isn’t enough that the paps are staking out my kids’ school, that they’re following Vicky at the hospital.  That they’re hiding in bushes at my flat, taking pictures of me walking, interrupting me at work, asking my colleagues for information—”

“David, this isn’t—”

“And now you make it worse?  Talking about our private life?  Talking about my…” He broke off angrily, turning away from her with an aggravated sigh.  “What the hell were you thinking, Julia?”

“I was out.  With a friend.  And yes, we talked about you,” she said shortly, beginning to grow angry herself.  “Listen, it was a private conversation.  Not meant for the masses to hear.”

“But they did.”

“There was a breach, yes.  Evidently a waiter hid a recording device beneath the table.  Bribed by the press.”

“And you weren’t careful.  And now I have to deal with the consequences.”  David had turned back to her, his gaze dark and baleful. 

Julia shook her head, refusing to give into the blame game he was trying to start.  “We both deal with consequences, David.  I haven’t had real privacy in close to ten years.  Don’t presume to talk to me about consequences.”

“You should’ve been more careful.”

“You should watch your tone,” she warned, chin up as she stared at him, not liking to be chided.  “These things happen.  I’ve already got my publicists on it.  This’ll blow over in no time.  And if you need extra security, you should ask for it.”

“What I need is my life back,” David retorted, “and some goddamned normalcy again.  Not to be treated like some ‘hot young plaything’ at the whims of the PM.  And it sounds like you couldn’t give less of a shit about what I’m going through to be with you.”

“You knew exactly what you were getting into,” Julia reminded him testily, feeling her hostility rise even more.  “You knew who I was, what I was.  I can’t cater to your insecurities every time the press says something about us, or about you.  I’ve got a country to run.”

“Then run it,” David shrugged irritably, waving her off and turning to go.  “I can’t deal with this anymore, Julia.  I won’t.  I’m done here.”

“Go, then.  If you can’t handle it, then that’s exactly what you should do!” Julia thundered at his retreating back.  He never once turned around, his steps never faltering as he opened the door and slammed it shut with a deafening thud.

* * *

 

And so six months passed.

Julia refused to reach out.  Refused to apologize.  Refused to make the first move.

She’d thrown herself into work (which was never hard to do).  Went to balls and events largely unaccompanied.  Kept up her breakneck pace, which suited her well.  The tittering about her love life had died down significantly, as she’d known it would. 

Julia had even gone on a date or two in the interim.  Once, with a visiting dignitary from Sweden who’d been sweet on her for years and was not particularly hard on the eyes.

And another blandly handsome colleague in town for business who was scheduled to accompany her at high noon today to Buckingham Palace.  There was an awards ceremony and reception to be held in the early afternoon, with officials meriting recognition from different walks of life slated to be honored by the Queen herself in full royal, elegant fashion.  As busy as she’d been, Julia honestly hadn’t paid much mind to the invitation nor the actual event, dressing for it last-minute yet still managing to pull off quite the beautiful cream-colored ensemble with matching fascinator and neutral suede heels.

Her date looked suitably pleased as he greeted her at the curb that morning, security and media flanking them heavily as they entered the limousine and began the traffic-laden city commute to the palace.  She stared absently out of the window, lost in her own thoughts, trying stubbornly not to think of the countless times David had been by her side in this exact same situation, looking so clean and handsome in his tux.  Avoided the fond memory of their easy banter on the way to fancy ceremonies.  Shied away from the thought of the good-luck-kiss ritual he’d started and insisted on before they departed the limo for events. 

“Julia?”

“Yes?”  She’d practically forgotten about her date.  The palace loomed in the near distance, the security convoy already making the proper turns to enter the property through the secured drive.

“Isn’t this the bloke you knew?  David Budd?”

Julia’s head whipped around so fast, her fascinator nearly fell off.

Sure enough, there he was.  On the program her date was brandishing for today’s event. 

Police Inspector David Budd of the London Metropolitan Police.   Cited for several heroic deeds of service, notably the 1st of October Attack and most recently the negotiation of terms and successful rescue of the victims of a hostage situation in central London.  One of the rescued victims was the daughter of a foreign political official, who evidently was impressed enough and possessed enough pull to make sure the inspector was properly awarded for his efforts.

“That is him, is it not?  Your—”

“Yes,” she said shortly, impatient to change the subject.  “We’re here.  Charles, can you be sure to stay on comms?   I have a busy day after this event, and no desire to linger.”

Her driver nodded in the affirmative.  Julia took her purse, hardly sparing a glance at her date as she exited the car, face set in stone yet mind churning at this latest turn of events.

* * *

 

Nothing had to happen. 

She could ignore David.  He’d likely return the favor.

Yet something told her this impromptu reunion would hardly be easy on either of them.

* * *

 

And…she was right.

As usual.

But not for the reasons she’d anticipated.

For one, she had overlooked the potential proximity of their seating arrangements. 

Her status as Prime Minister basically ensured that she would always be in the most visible position at any and every event.  Thus, she was seated at the very front of the huge outdoor assembly, about six seats down from the royal family and just adjacent to the dais erected for the honorees.

Which meant that once said honorees were welcomed with quite a bit of pomp down the wide aisle and escorted to the dais, she had a clear and unobstructed view of Police Inspector David Budd as he walked in stoic, crisp lockstep with Commissioner Lavin towards the front near the awaiting media scrum.  Both men made an abrupt, smoothly coordinated left turn and never broke stride as they headed to the cordoned-off row of seats a mere 10 meters from where Julia sat.

As if the proximity of her ex wasn’t enough to deal with, what David was wearing nearly caused a full-blown personal crisis. 

Julia could barely look his way even if she wanted to, the effect of his appearance practically robbing her of her sensibilities.  Judging by the temperature of the chatter that ensued once he walked past, it was clear she wasn’t at all alone in her favorable appraisal of the young inspector.

David Budd was in his full, flawless ceremonial London Metropolitan Police uniform for the event. Back straight, shoulders sloped, stature proud and tall.  His dark navy uniform was tailored impeccably to his frame, trimmed in silver with a stripe down the pant, his lapels and epaulets showcasing his rank and several medals already pinned to his breast pocket.  He had his checkered cap tucked beneath one arm, dark curls shining and handsome face impassive as he looked straight ahead, hardly sparing a glance left or right before reaching the dais and standing at attention.  Looking every inch the heroic, square-jawed officer who could handle any threat, conquer any crime, and look damn good while doing so.

Julia kept her eyes averted and expression nonchalant even as she felt her body responding to her ex with alarming speed, the undeniably sexy, mouthwatering sight of a David Budd in full uniform doing the most for a libido that hadn’t been properly sated in six entire months.  It only got worse as the ceremony wore on, her eyes darting to him furtively every few moments, unable to fully shake herself of the effect of his presence nor calm her racing pulse. 

David received his award, saluted his superior.  Turned to the crowd and nodded, their applause causing the cutest grin to break out across his all-too-attractive features.  The dimples emerged, his laugh lines deepened.  Julia felt her heart skip several beats, felt the telltale flush of desire flare to life low in her belly as she stared up at him. 

And for the first time that day, David looked straight back at her for one long, penetrating second.  Those incredible blue eyes intense, searching her gaze.  Almost as if he immediately could tell the effect he was having on her.

Julia found herself growing wet, throbbing a little between her thighs, just from that minute bit of scrutiny, that frisson of potent eye contact between them. 

 _Jesus._  

Her body was **obviously** ready for this reunion, even if she certainly wasn’t. 

* * *

 

They needed to hash this out.

She couldn’t take it anymore.

This…awkward, awful dance they were engaged in at the moment.  This careful, precarious game of physical chess they were playing, just to stay away from each other.

She’d be engaged in conversation and hear a familiar Scottish voice a couple of yards away, and feel compelled to move further away from the source.

He’d see her approach seemingly from the corner of his eye and quickly change course, excusing himself and moving through the crowd.

Julia had almost backed into him once, turning abruptly to apologize as he did the same, David’s hands instinctively grasping her shoulders to steady her before he realized who it was.  The scent of his cologne, so familiar and arousing, practically making her swoon as he let go instantly, barely looking at her before muttering another apology and turning to leave.  That low, insistent heat at her core spread even further, her nipples hard and tingling in response to her former lover’s warm, spicy aroma lingering in the air.

This was absolute madness.

Something needed to give.

* * *

 

They’d had this signal, this particular tell that she recalled from his time as her PPO, that would serve as a silent SOS to him in case she needed immediate assistance without calling large amounts of attention to herself.

Two fingers, placed just above her heart.

“Kevin, I’m going to use the loo.  No need for accompaniment;  I’ll alert the palace guard if anything arises.”  She scanned the crowd as she said this, looking for a familiar head of dark curls, a particular long-legged stance, and paused as she spotted him in conversation with three other uniformed officers near the back entrance of the palace.

“Yes, Prime Minister,” her protection officer agreed.  Julia nodded, taking her leave swiftly, not even noticing the look of defeated chagrin her date was throwing her way as he lingered in the background.  She walked slowly past the assembled scrum, knowing David would notice.

Sure enough, those keen eyes looked up at her approach.  She tapped two fingers above her heart once, never breaking stride, never so much as looking at him directly yet trusting him to follow.

Her heels clicked on marble steps as she ascended the low staircase and entered the palace through a door flanked by two guards.  The interior was cool, quiet, regal hallway spotless and ornately decorated.  Julia had done business here more than a few times before, and knew the first floor quite well; she took her time, made her way slowly down the corridor. 

Heard footsteps approach from behind, heavier in nature, the tempo of their pace much hastier than hers.  She knew enough to wait for him to catch up, to fall behind and follow, to be guided by him to the best place that would allow for their privacy.  They’d done this more than a few times before.

David passed her on her right then, not sparing her a glance as he moved swiftly down the hall.  Julia eyed the broad set of his shoulders as he walked another dozen paces before turning to a door on his right up ahead, opening it and entering quickly before shutting it behind him.

This was it.  Julia had no idea what kind of encounter lay beyond that door…perhaps a shouting match would ensue, perhaps they’d have nothing at all to say to each other.  

But it was obvious in the very least that he agreed with her on one key point. 

A confrontation needed to be had.  Now.

She found herself holding her breath as she reached the door after a minute or so, placed a manicured hand atop the knob.  Pressed it down, feeling the lock release and the heavy wooden panel swing away from her as it opened to reveal a small, book-laden study, high windows flanked in heavy drapes, the air slightly redolent of aged, polished wood and the sweet, musty odor of old paper. 

“You summoned me.”

Julia looked to her left, slightly startled as David approached her from the dim corner of the room.  His eyes never left her face as he came closer, and closer still.  Stood right in front of her, his arm reaching out to press the door shut behind them.  Looked at her for one long, loaded spell.

There was so much to say. 

And none of it wanted to come out in that moment.

So she spoke the one language that neither of them could ever seem to deny to each other.

Her lips met his suddenly, furiously, her arms coming up to grasp those strong shoulders as she pressed herself shamelessly to him, molded her body to his in seconds.  David started to respond with his usual eagerness before pulling his mouth away from hers after a minute, shaking his head.

“Julia, this isn’t—”

She crushed her mouth to his again, not wanting to hear a word of dissension, not wanting to talk at all as she grabbed his lapels and suddenly flipped their positions, slamming his back into the door.  The move seemed to stun him into silence momentarily, his narrowed blue eyes peering down at her as she boldly brought a hand down to the placket of his trousers, daring to touch him there, a small gratified smile lifting the corner of her mouth as she discovered the evidence of his own arousal clearly in play.

“Julia…”

“Shhh.”  How much could they get away with here?  He wouldn’t have led them to a place so heavily monitored, or teeming with security measures.  And there wasn’t much she wasn’t willing to do at this point, what with David all straining and hard beneath her palm and her panties practically soaked from all the visual foreplay of him in uniform. 

Julia unbuckled him with a practiced hand, unzipped him quickly, sank down to her knees on cool marble before pulling him out.

“Jesus, Julia.  Could we just—”  

She had her eager, hot mouth on his cock long before he could finish his thought, David letting out a low, quiet hiss as his hips jutted forward of their own volition, seeking the warm, wet heat of her tongue and the friction of her palm as she wrapped it around the thick base of his shaft. 

“Shit…” 

Julia worked him over steadily, moving fast, knowing exactly how to twist her wrist, how to move her tongue over his shaft, where to lick and suck and press her lips to make him come apart.  He was so beautiful like this, flushed and submissive, head tilted back against the door and eyes shut tight, the long column of his throat exposed and his mouth parted as he panted in response to her maneuvers.  She stared up at him amorously as she traced a wet, sensual line with her tongue from the heavy, soft sacs of flesh beneath his shaft all the way up to the thick bulbous tip, his heated sigh gracing her ears as she caught a few pearlescent drops of cum on her tongue.

“Fuck.” 

He was close, very much so; she could see it in the way his jaw tightened, eyes flashing now as he grasped her by the shoulders, pulled her up and switched their positions swiftly, pressing her back into the door.  Whatever resistance he’d been formulating up until this point had obviously evaporated, his hands yanking up her skirt around her waist, fingers catching the edge of her panties and pulling them down quickly, her need for him apparent as she lifted her leg and wrapped it around his waist.

He positioned himself and pushed into her in one terrific thrust, so hard and thick and deep and utterly perfect, filling her whole;  Julia biting back a cry of pure pleasure as she felt herself nearly come then and there from the beloved sensation of him stretching her wide, forcing her to yield, her other thigh lifting and encircling his waist. 

She knew how strong he was, knew he could lift her with barely any effort, and thus was rewarded with the feel of his callused palms holding her bare bottom as he shifted them slightly away from the door and began to lift her up, slipping a little out of her before guiding her tight, supple cunt back down onto his shaft.

“What about your date?” he whispered with a hint of dark sarcasm, grunting softly as he guided her hips up and down. 

“Doesn’t matter,” she breathed, overcome with lust, feeling herself get closer with every deep plunge.  She circled her hips gently, tightened her pussy around him just so, and he instinctively increased the tempo, knew to press into her a little harder to get her clit engaged, timed his thrusts in tune with her breathing.  David was practically a master at picking up her tells, reacting in kind, responsive and sensitive in a way no other lover ever had been. 

_God, had she **missed** this._

“And this?  Does _this_ matter to you?”  He was nailing her to the spot with those piercing eyes of his, never breaking their rhythm even as he interrogated her.  “Or perhaps, this is all that matters to you…”

“David…”

“Size matters, right?” David pressed her even tighter against the door then, thrusting as deep and as hard into her as he could.  Julia did cry out then, mouth parted and chest heaving as the fresh pain of his brutal thrusts only served to make her pleasure that much more intense, staring into the swirling abyss of emotion behind his eyes as he continued without mercy.

“David, please—”

“Isn’t this what you want?  Your little toy soldier, ready to fuck you whenever you please?  No arguments, no inconvenience.  Just this,” he whispered tonelessly, kissing her again with a fervor that felt all wrong, felt like an assault on her lips.  Julia felt alarm blossom within her chest even as her body prepared to slip beneath the waves of orgasm, her thighs trembling around his waist, her sex throbbing uncontrollably around him.

“David!”

She couldn’t hold back her shout as she came with a sudden, violent rush, spine practically arching in half against the door as everything tightened and twitched and gushed forth, as her toes curled and her lungs arrested their motion and she dug desperate fingers into his scalp beneath the soft curls, breathing hard against his mouth.  David thrust into her one last time, his body convulsing once, twice, entirely silent save for his own harsh breaths as she felt his warm, wet release begin to drip slowly down her thigh.

He held her for a moment more before pulling away, quietly letting her down before averting his eyes as he stepped back to tuck himself in, redo the placket on his trousers.

Julia stared at his hands as he meticulously pulled himself back together.  Silently pulled herself together too, retrieving her panties, straightening her skirt. 

The effect of his words lay in the space between them, tense and accusatory, alive with anger.

And for the first time in her entire life, Julia had absolutely no idea how to proceed.

“I’m sorry.”

She whispered it, her heart constricting painfully as he looked up at her then.  The hard glassiness in his eyes telling her everything she needed to know.

David nodded, unwilling to speak.  Came towards her, his gaze softening just a touch, the edge of his anger blunted by their proximity.  His unspoken pain becoming more evident the longer she looked at him.  For a moment their lips were close, hovering near each other, Julia unwilling to take anything more from him than she already had.

She didn’t close the gap.

And neither did he.

The door shifted behind her, David reaching down and opening it himself.  Angled his body past hers. 

“Bye, Julia.”

He shook his head minutely before casting his eyes downward, stepping out into the hall and closing the door behind him.

Leaving her alone in a troubled, uneasy silence. 

Wondering how she could make things right between them again.

* * *

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 4th to those of you celebrating. :) Here's a BIG-ASS chapter to end this lil' story. Texts are italicized, and have a dash in front of/behind them. Please enjoy.  
> -Candi

Julia lay wide awake in bed that night, unable to sleep.

Staring at the ceiling, as if the answer to repairing her relationship with David would magically appear from thin air, scrawled in bold lettering, telling her exactly how to proceed from here. 

A script, giving her the perfect words to say.  Giving him the perfect responses.  Mending everything in one fell, eloquent swoop so that the awful sinking feeling in her stomach when she recalled the raw, visible anger and hurt in his eyes that afternoon could relent somewhat, relax a little, give her a moment’s peace.

Nothing appeared, of course. 

And so the feeling only seemed to intensify.  Twisting her gut, draining her of anything resembling satisfaction at how she’d spoken to him, how she’d behaved that day. 

How she could tell he hadn’t been fully invested in their encounter turning sexual, and how she simply hadn’t _cared_ enough to stop.  

How he’d wanted to talk even as she swallowed his objections with hard kisses, rubbed her body against his shamelessly, wouldn’t take no for an answer as she took what she wanted until he had no choice but to give in. 

Her ego, her desire, HER need for him came first.  She’d shushed David.  Touched him boldly despite his hesitations.  Forced the response from him that SHE wanted to receive, because she was horny and frustrated and needed satiation from the one man she highly doubted would ever turn her down. 

She’d used him that day. 

Perhaps she’d been using him all along, to some extent. 

And now she more than understood his palpable disgust with her.  Heaven knew she was feeling enough of it for herself at that moment in time.

_Did she even deserve his forgiveness?_

Julia shifted beneath the covers uncomfortably, the lingering soreness between her thighs flaring to life, a painful reminder of his rough, vicious thrusts as they’d practically rutted against the door.  In all the time she and David had been lovers, he’d always been overly careful with her when they made love, mindful of his strength and size, of the fact that he could truly hurt her if he rushed things or used too much force.

So the fact that he’d _meant_ to hurt her that day?  

Spoke volumes.

And nothing about this was going to be easy.

* * *

 

Julia eventually gave up on her studious ceiling observations, snuck a look over at her phone.

_11:38 PM._

David was a notorious night-owl.  She knew in all likelihood that he was still awake, prowling in the kitchen, probably starting in on his second or third ale for the night.

That is, if he was even alone…

The possibility of him having moved on presented fresh complications.  Julia cursed herself again for the 350th time that night, truly chagrined at her choice to neglect real conversation in lieu of a tryst that only served to muddy the waters even further. 

She knew exactly fuck-all about his current circumstances, truth be told.  Didn’t even know if there were other people in the equation.  Didn’t know if she’d be wasting her time mending fences with a neighbor that had long ago moved off the property entirely.

Julia felt herself inhale deeply as she took her phone in hand.

There was only one way to find out.

* * *

_-We need to talk, David.-_

* * *

 

Long, quiet minutes passed without a response.

Just as Julia was about to relent, about to put the phone down, turn off the light and cut her losses, simply prepare to move on and leave him the fuck alone (perhaps she’d done _enough,_ for Christ’s sake), her phone vibrated softly in her lap.

_-You certainly weren’t interested in talking earlier.-_

_-I know.  I’m sorry.-_

_-Duly noted.-_

Julia felt her confidence falter a little at the coldness of his reply.  Truly unused to being in this position, she found herself tentatively unsure how to proceed.

- _The way we left things unsaid…I care too much about you to let things stay this way.-_

Half a minute ticked away.

_-What, exactly, needs to be said?  Silence says a lot.  Six months of it told me everything I needed to know.-_

She took a deep breath, feeling her anger start to stir. 

_-That silence went both ways, David.-_

_-It did.  Maybe for good reasons.-_

_-You seemed to want space.  To get out of the bubble.  And I gave you that space.-_

_-Yes, you did.  The ever-generous Julia Montague, granting me permission to have space.  How nice of you.-_

Julia felt like throwing the phone across the room.  This was all going so wrong, so quickly, and she’d be damned if she was going to let him villainize her or diminish her current efforts. 

Getting defensive at this point, however, was likely the worst thing she could possibly do.  So she found herself settling for something in-between, which as it turned out was a common refrain between the two of them whenever they had a falling-out in the past.

_-That’s not how I meant it, David.  And you know that.-_

Nothing, for several more minutes on end.

* * *

 

Julia was obviously getting nowhere, wasting her time and his. 

He'd never replied.

They were done here.  She wasn’t going to get down on two knees and beg, convince him to partake in a chat he wasn’t remotely interested in having.  Apologize a million times in a million ways in the faint hopes of some sudden breakthrough.  Have some sappy, cinema-esque reunion and rekindle their flame forevermore. 

It was over, and he was right.  Maybe there was nothing more to say.

She felt foolish for even trying in the first place.

_Enough._

The phone was placed back on the nightstand.  The light, finally switched off.

And Julia turned resolutely on her side, shutting her eyes.  Settling into the darkness.

* * *

 

Her butler knocked at the same time every morning.  6:00 AM, without fail.

“Good morning, Prime Minister.  Breakfast at 6:30.”  His austere voice carried through the door, as did his retreating footsteps as the rest of 10 Downing began to stir in the early hour.

Julia opened bleary eyes to greet the day, having slept fitfully, her sheets and coverlet in impossible disarray.  The tension of the previous day still hadn’t abated, her gut still in knots, throat tight with emotion. 

It wasn’t in her nature, however, to lie in bed and feel sorry for herself.  Had never been her tendency to mope and cower to her circumstances, nor waste time in a funk when there was a day's work to be done.

_Let’s get on with it._

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, placed them firmly on the floor.  Ran an idle hand through her hair as a hand reached out automatically to grasp her phone, get updated on any relevant international news before her briefing in less than two hours commenced.  Julia glanced at the screen before doing a sudden double-take, eyes widening as she abruptly stopped breathing.

David had responded to her.

Left her a message just an hour earlier.  A brief missive, followed by an unfamiliar address.

_-Let’s meet tonight.  9pm.  See you then.-_

* * *

 

As it turned out, the unfamiliar address led to a more rural, relaxed area of London: Richmond upon Thames, which lay southwest of the city proper and boasted beautiful, uncluttered views of the river as Julia’s driver slowly made his way through the streets that evening.  They turned onto Old Palace Lane just beyond the river, immediately encountering a cluster of pristine white cottages with small gardens overflowing with wisteria and every manner of cultivated foliage.  There was something distinctly homey and sweet about this section of the city, a welcoming warmth that reminded Julia a little of her own rural upbringing, and she found herself unwittingly drawing comfort from the memory as the car slowed suddenly to a stop across the street from the last cottage in the section.

“Ma’am.  Wait here.  We’re securing the area.”  Her PPO, ever-vigilant as she scanned their surroundings, radioing the support vehicles at the front and back of their car and dispatching instructions to the team.

Lights shone through the windows of the cottage’s first floor, the gate leading from the small front garden left ajar as Julia watched a couple of men emerge from the property and walk down the street, chatting animatedly.  Another was perched on the steps just outside the open door, talking to a shadowed figure standing just inside the door’s threshold.

She could just faintly make out the silhouette as David’s, watched as he seemed to nod and listen intently to the man in front of him.  They embraced then for a good, long while, the man on the steps appearing to tighten his hold on David before pulling away and clasping their hands together. 

Julia watched as members of her security team approached the two men, David nodding and looking towards her vehicle as he granted them entry to the house.  He and the man talked briefly for a few minutes more, only ending their chat once the security team emerged from inside the cottage, signaling that their sweep of the premises was complete.

“Ok, ma’am.  Clear to enter.” 

Her door was opened.  Julia stepped outside of the vehicle, exhaling quietly, feeling an uncharacteristic bout of nerves rise even as she outwardly projected all the calm she could muster.  They walked in tandem across the street, reaching the gate just as the gentleman who’d lingered behind stepped out into the street.  He was tall, lanky, with half his face noticeably disfigured and a slight hitch to his step.  Icy blue eyes appraised her briefly before he nodded his respects, turning left and making his way slowly down the lane.

Julia stepped inside the garden and down the small concrete path, her PPO staying at the perimeter of the house.  Made her way up the short set of steps and pressed the open door wider, entering a dimly-lit front hall, her entrance warranting little to no fanfare.

“Come in.  I’m just cleaning up a bit here.”

David’s disembodied voice, coming from further inside the cottage.  Julia really took a moment to look around, noting the sparse, comfortable beauty of the interior.  The hardwood floors, covered here and there with tasteful, thick rugs in solid neutrals.  A den to her left, dominated by a large flat-screen TV and a well-upholstered set of couches in sepia-colored suede.  To her right, a dining room with a simple geometric chandelier hovering over a round mahogany table flanked by six elegant chairs.  She walked further down the hall and made a right, entering a beautiful kitchen with walls partially constructed of natural stone, the traditional pendant lights hovering over the island throwing off golden, buttery light in every direction. 

David had his back to her, busily clearing off the butcher-block table in the eating nook at the far side of the kitchen.  Julia found herself approaching him with wide eyes, mouth ajar, wondering at all that had transpired in the past six months.

“David?”

He turned, a bunch of glasses perched precariously in his hands, not quite meeting her eyes as he made his way to the sink.  “Yes?”

“You moved.”

“Yes.” She watched as he rolled up the sleeves to his black cotton button-up, turning on the faucet and leaning down to open the dishwasher.  He set about rinsing the glasses in the sink, scrubbing them lightly before setting them carefully in the top rack.

“When?”

“Three months ago.”

David’s monosyllabic answers, coupled with his back being turned to her, really wasn’t giving off the most welcome vibe.  Julia was willing to stay quiet for the time being, content to continue taking in the new surroundings, welcoming the chance to silently study him in the interim.  She saw children’s drawings adorning the stainless-steel fridge.  A picture of David with an older woman, her wizened blue eyes and wide smile matching his with an almost unnerving exactness.  Another picture of him with Ella, down on one knee in a park and holding her around the waist as she kissed his forehead.

It was almost disorienting, the sharp contrasts in warmth and personality that this new home now held by comparison to his old, barren flat.  There was a life clearly being lived here:  a clear, loving attention being paid to detail, personal aspects brandished proudly instead of being withheld or set aside.  Instead of cool, dark confines and shadows, there was light and coziness here on display, a true sense of order and serenity.

What on earth had brought this about?  What had she missed out on?

He turned his head slightly, as if he’d heard her puzzled thoughts aloud.  “Wine?”

“Yes, please.”  She watched the muscles of his back shift as he turned off the faucet and dried his hands briefly before scooting over to another cupboard and extracting a wine glass from its recesses.  David seemed bigger than she remembered…somehow filling up the space more, filling out his clothes more.  His shoulders and upper body much broader, thick with visible muscle, the button-down he wore partly open and showcasing a healthy amount of well-toned chest covered in soft, dark hair.  The navy denim jeans he sported hugging blessedly close to the powerful bulk of his thighs. 

He was so _masculine_.  So physically assured and virile.  So strong.

Julia felt her mouth go dry, watching him.  Willing herself to calm down a little and failing miserably with flying colors as she watched him turn the corkscrew to open a bottle of red wine, forearm muscles rippling sinuously as he twisted the small device. She jumped a little as a muted pop signaled the opening of the bottle, lowering her eyes, almost embarrassed at how unbearably attracted to him she really was.

It was ridiculous, really.  How little he had to do to get her going.

David poured the glass, interrupting her thoughts with a question.  “Den?”

“Sure.” 

To her surprise, he hefted a bottle of water fresh from the fridge for himself before signaling for her to follow him down the hall.  They rounded the corner, him gesturing for her to sit on one side before he sat down himself, legs spreading wide as he exhaled heavily.

“You wanted to talk.”  David still wasn’t really meeting her gaze even as he spoke, eyes intently focused on the bottle of water he was unscrewing.

“I did.”

“Well?”

“I…don’t quite know where to start,” Julia began hesitantly, feeling a little overwhelmed by all the changes she detected going on in the man to her left.  “Except to ask how you’ve been over the past few months.”

He snorted.  “Didn’t seem to matter much to you before.”

“I’m sorry about that, David.  I truly am,” she said neutrally, not wanting to give into any barbed, defensive retorts.  “I should’ve heard you out, both then and now.  I was wrong.”

His eyes rose to meet hers at last, studying her for one long, quiet moment.  As if he were looking for some imaginary motive of hers, some ulterior intent beneath her sincere admittance to fault, and finding none.  A sigh left his lips as he looked away again, taking a swig of water.

“I guess I’m not quite sure why you’re here, Julia.” David turned back to her.  “Nothing’s changed.  You’re still PM.  You have everything you want, all the attention anyone could ask for.  Clearly aren’t hurting for suitors, if that poor sod yesterday was anything to go by.  Why are you here?”

_Because I’m still in love with you._

She couldn’t bring herself to say it, though, not with those defiant blue eyes trained on her.  Not with his shoulders set like that, his very being seeming to recoil at the thought of her encroaching upon his life again.  Julia pivoted slightly, avoiding the truth lodged just south of her lips.

“I needed us to have closure.”

“Closure?” David stared at her in open disbelief.

“Yes.  We’ve been through too much, David.  Things between us shouldn't have to end on such a bitter note.  We should both have our say like adults.  Find out where we went wrong.  Say our piece, and move forward from there.”

“I’ve moved forward already, in case you hadn’t noticed.  Didn’t need you to do so,” he gestured around to the room they were in.  “I’m in a good space, Julia.  Promoted at work.  Moved to a better place for myself and the kids.  The paps stopped following me months ago.  Therapy’s gone well.  I’m leading a veteran’s counseling group here every couple of weeks.  Put down the bottle for a bit, getting into better shape.  I’m doing just fine.”

“And I’m happy for you, truly I am,” she mustered, truly at a loss for words, astonished at just how far he’d come in such a short time.  What if their breakup really had been the best thing for _him_?  Was she being selfish again, wanting to disrupt his obvious positive momentum?

“But?”

David was pinning her again with his gaze, waiting for a sensible response.  She sat there, stupefied, unwilling to go _there_ with her feelings in case they weren’t reciprocated, desperately trying to find a reason why a well-adjusted, thriving David Budd would want to drag the baggage she came with back into his life.

Truth be told, there was no good reason why he’d be willing to do so.

He cast his eyes down again, nodding at nothing in particular, biting his lip.  “Okay.  I think we’re done here.  Glad you stopped by.” 

She watched him place the bottle on the coffee table.  Rise from the couch and walk through the room, no doubt preparing to escort her out.  Before she could stop herself, she found her voice, found her footing, stood rapidly just as he reached the threshold leading out into the hall.

“I still love you, David.”

He stopped abruptly, pausing in mid-gait.  It was like the entire city had gone still, everything around them lapsing into utter silence.  All she could hear was her own breathing, amplified in the quiet room, increasing in rate as he slowly turned back to face her.  Made his way back across the room until he was standing right in front of her.  Julia could see tears in his eyes, could see the slight trembling of his frame as he fought back his emotions ruthlessly, trying with obvious desperation to keep them in check.

“Please don’t.”

She fought her own tears then, shaking her head.  Unwilling to lie to herself, or to him, any longer. 

“It’s true.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“David…”

“You abandoned me.  Abandoned us.”

“You walked out.  We abandoned each other.”

“Because it was over.  Because we both knew it couldn’t last.”

“I didn’t listen to you.  I didn’t hear you out.  That can change.”

“Why?  Why now?” he demanded irately, eyes blazing with barely-controlled anger.  “Why not months ago?”

“Pride.” She smiled wanly at him through her tears.  “Which we both have too much of.”

He gasped then, a broken sound that rendered her helpless as he bowed his head, a tear sliding down his cheek.  Julia brought a hand to his cheek before he could wipe it away, brushing it aside with her thumb.

“I…can’t sacrifice everything good in my life right now, Julia.  I can’t.  Even for you.”

 _Even for her._   She felt herself warm at his words, growing hopeful at the unspoken context behind them.  Despite all that had transpired, he still singled her out, placed her in such high esteem.

“I don’t want you to.  We can figure it out.”

He fell quiet, still seemingly unconvinced, unsure about her confidence in finding solid middle ground.  She could tell he was faltering.  Struggling with it.  And for all the emotion he was openly displaying at that moment, she honestly had no idea where his feelings for her now resided.

“David…if this doesn’t work for you, if I’m a distraction in your life, I can accept that,” she whispered tremulously in the air between them.  Julia chanced a bit of touch, lightly grasping his hands in hers, encouraged when he didn’t pull away.

“And if you need me to leave you alone, I will.  If you don’t love me anymore…I will accept that in time.”

She paused then, gathering herself again.  Steeling herself for anything to come.

“Just…tell me that you want me to stay.  And if you don’t, I promise to leave you alone, let you live your life without any more interference from me.  You have my word.”

He still remained entirely silent.  Not letting her go, not pulling her close.  Staring down at the floor between them, still trembling a little, mouth twitching with emotion.

And after a long, wordless period of time, Julia was sure she had her answer. 

However much it hurt to admit.

She raised her head resolutely, brushed her tears away with a shaking hand as she fiercely bit back the urge to wail, to just come apart at the seams right there in the middle of his den.

“Goodnight, David.  A pleasure,” she uttered stiffly, letting go of him entirely as she took a swift sidestep past him and bid a hasty retreat to the front door. 

She’d had her say.  He had his.  It was pointless to linger, pointless to even try this in the first place.  Whatever loving sentiments David had held for her had clearly run dry, replaced by a tangle of feelings he obviously had no intention of expressing to her that night. 

Not that he even owed her that in the first place.

It was beyond time to go.

She reached the door, her vision clouded with tears as she rapidly lost the battle to control her emotions, wanting nothing more than to escape, to put this behind them both and just move on.

Julia gasped as she was caught just before she could reach for the knob.

Two strong arms, arresting her motion. 

Pulling her back, turning her body before pressing her to the door.

And David’s mouth, gentle and insistent, descending suddenly down upon hers.

* * *

 

A dark staircase.

A hallway, lit by summer moonlight.  Soft, white drapes billowing outward, grazing her skin as he carried her past the landing.

The creaking hinge of a door, gently kicked open.

Her feet, touching the ground again.  Fingers rejoicing, tangling in a mass of familiar, dark curls, slightly longer and softer than she remembered.

Buttons releasing their hold at last, relinquishing their duties as she undid them one by one and pushed his shirt aside.  Taut muscles, bigger and more defined, shifting marvelously beneath her eager palms.

There was so much _more_ to him now, in every single sense of the word.

His delightfully full lips, busy on hers.  Making up for lost time.  Capturing hers again and again.  Passionate, playful, curious as ever.

Making her sigh as they moved on, blazing a path down her cheek to her neck.  Pressing beneath the soft contours of her jaw.  Hot and gentle at the base of her throat.  Venturing lower between her breasts.

She arched her back, baring herself to him, exposing her _heart_.  Wanting his mouth there. 

Wanting him lower.  And lower still. 

Feeling him unzip her, the cool metal of the zipper a sharp contrast to the heated skin of her back.  Her dress parting.  His fingers tugging apart the fabric, rendering it obsolete, rendering her nude entirely.

No underwear.

Heated, knowing blue eyes met hers in the semi-darkness.  Hands, rough and calloused and hot, grasping her about the waist and pulling her close.

He was hard as hell.  Obviously so.

Denim chafing her bare, pale thighs as he nuzzled her down below, wanting her to feel him.

Every last inch.  All for her.

She felt herself melting rapidly with need.  Unraveling in all the right ways.

Lips pulsing gently, growing nice and swollen and wet.  Anticipating more.

The plush covers, cradling her back as he pressed her down.  Knelt over her.

Divested himself fully of everything he wore.  Powerful, beautiful body revealed, bit by bit.   

Fly undone, denim peeled away.  Boxers off.

His gorgeous cock, magnificently erect.  Long and impossibly thick, surrounded by a thatch of dark, curly hair.  Arching longingly towards her as if in supplication. 

Her mouth watered, thighs parting of their own volition.

No preamble needed. 

They were both ready.  Their need was too great to stall for time.

Her mouth parted wide as he pushed her thighs open even wider and entered her slowly.  The soreness of their previous encounter rearing up again, making her gasp into his neck.

He stopped, pulling back to look at her.

“I hurt you?” 

A small, pained whisper, full of remorse.

“A little.”

A withdrawal then, slow and careful. 

Kisses, raining over her face.  Whispered apologies in the dark.

Pretty soon, his name.  Chanted like a prayer from her lips, like a blessed litany as he endeavored to make it right.

His tongue, undoing her.  Delving between her thighs.  Sliding between her folds again and again in sweet, slow, elegant torment. 

One hand loose, his fingers pinching her nipple firmly.  Rolling it between thumb and index, teasing it to a hard peak.  Palm caressing her breast, squeezing her flesh covetously.

Mouth pressed lightly to her sex at first.  More intensely, as time went on, working to the core of her.  Sucking at her wetly.  Lavishing her clit with endless attention.  Leaving her drenched, wrung-out, helplessly writhing with pleasure beneath him.

Screaming her climax out in the dark room.

Not once, or twice. 

Three times.

He’d held her hand the entire time.  Let her fist the other hand in his curls.  Clutch at the sheets.  Scratch desperately at his back as she started to come.  Cover her eyes wearily in sated surrender.

But he wouldn’t let the other one go.

She was beyond pain, beyond pleasure.  Beyond bliss as he came back up between her thighs, offering her a sloppy kiss that was half-smile as he nuzzled himself back into position, pressing their hands into the pillow.

He slid inside her.  Tenderly.  Carefully. 

Waited for her to nod before he moved.

The bed rocked with their slow, heated dance.  Her sweaty body, coiled languidly around his.  His muscles tense as he held himself back, eyes intent on her face, beautiful mouth parted and hovering just over hers.

He grew too close too quickly for his liking, switching positions after a minute.

Spooned her.  Raised her thigh a little, entering her gently from behind.

Both sighing as he sank himself deeply into her and began to move again. 

His hands roaming her body.  Possessing her, claiming her anew. 

_Mine._

Her hand caressing his cheek, pulling his mouth down to hers. 

_Mine, too._

A stiffening then, a quiet groan as his hips slowed.

As he bit her shoulder, tucking his face snugly into her neck.

She felt him rupture suddenly between her thighs.  Felt him shudder all over, hold her tightly as he spent himself for a long, wonderful spell, his chest heaving against her back.

They settled, their bodies still molded perfectly to each other.  Breathing going from harsh to quiet in the tingling wake of their lovemaking.

Their hands.  Finding each other again in the dark.

_I love you, Julia._

She thought she’d fairly imagined it as she drifted into slumber, so quiet was David’s whisper against the tender shell of her ear. 

Raising their hands, she pressed a soft, meaningful kiss atop his knuckle, settling back into his arms and whispering loud enough for him to hear.

She wanted it to carry.   Because she meant it.  With every fiber of her heart.

And because, no matter what came their way, she'd _never_ let him doubt it again.

_I love you, too._

* * *

 

 

 

 


End file.
